Miriel and Arathorn
by Helen
Summary: Will a young accepted bond the warder of her choosing?...


Miriel meandered through the halls, trying to look busy just in case some Sister should decide that she needed to run a few errands to keep herself busy. She actually was going somewhere, if not for the reasons an Aes Sedai would want to hear. 

She emerged from the halls into the Warders training grounds. Lifting the color banded hem of her Accepted's dress, she sat down on one of the nearby benches and pretended to read the book she had brought with her. But she was really watching Arathorn. 

Arathorn Eldaren, recently raised to Manshima, the Master of Warders quickest student. His stern face was fixed in concentration as he worked the forms with his opponent. Steel-grey eyes searched for an opening, a weakness that would allow him to win the match. Over the top of her book, Miriel watched with the same admiration she did every day. 

Almost faster than her eyes could detect, Arathorn gave his sword a sudden twist, and his partner's sword flew out of his hand. Arathorn rarely lost. 

As he approached the weapons room, a boy suddenly moved to block his path. His arms were folded across his chest as he glared agressively at Arathorn. Miriel watched interestedly. She often came to the training grounds, and she didn't recognize this boy. He must be a new Siswai. 

Challenge radiated from the boy, but as Arathorn continued to stare at him impassively, he began to look uneasy. A few moments later, he backed down. Miriel silently breathed a sigh of relief. Not that she thought the boy could really hurt Arathorn, but she sensed that he would be trouble. As Arathorn stepped into the weapons room, Miriel stood up. There would be no more practice today, and she had studies to attend to. 

A few days later Miriel wandered out to the gardens to stretch her legs. She had been in the library for almost three days straight, studying the riegn of Artur Hawkwing. One of the sisters she was friendly with had spoken to her earlier, and from one of the hints she had dropped, Miriel was fairly certain that the Hall was ready to raise her to Aes Sedai. She could have danced with joy. After six years as a Novice and four as Accepted, she was finally going to become Aes Sedai! As she allowed these happy thoughts to wash over her, she suddenly came uponArathorn. Her breath caught. It was dusk, and his face was half shadowed as he sat cross-legged with eyes closed, meditating. For the thousandth time, she prayed to the Light that one day she might make him her Warder. Abruptly, she laughed. Hard headed, stubborn Miriel Isilya, who never gave way to anyone, was head over heels in love with a man who barely knew she existed! 

At the sound of her laughter, Arathorn looked up. Seeing her, he stood. 

"Accepted," he murmered with a slight bow. 

"Manshima Arathorn," she murmered with equal gravity. Inside, she felt as though she'd swallowed a hundred butterflies. "Please accept my apologies, I did not mean to disturb you." 

He gave a faint smile. "No need to apologize, Accepted. I was just finishing my meditation." He fell silent, but Miriel sensed his unspoken question. "I was just laughing at the thought that after so long, I will finally be raised to Aes Sedai." Miriel bit her tounge quickly. She was on the verge of babbling. 

Arathorn merely nodded. "I understand. May I ask how long you have been in the Tower, Accepted Miriel?" 

"Six years as a Novice and four years as Accepted,"she responded. 

"What Ajah will you choose?" 

Miriel was caught off gaurd. "Blue, I think." Inwardly, she winced at how foolish she knew she must sound. 

"A good choice. If you will ecxuse me, Accepted Miriel, I must return to the Warder's barracks. I wish you luck in your raising." With another small bow, he turned and left. As Miriel watched him go, she realized she was on the verge of tears. Why, why can't I even have the courage to just talk to him? She thought in anguish. I have to, if I want to make him my Warder. Lately, though, she'd been having doubts. Even if he did agree to become her Warder, a Warder - Aes Sedai bond still wasn't what she wanted from him. Her tears left hot trails of salt down her cheeks. She almost cursed the day she'd laid eyes on him. 

Suddenly, Miriel realised she wasn't alone. Through the blur of her tears, she saw the last person under the Light that she would have wanted to see: Carca Rhos. 

The black haired Accepted looked at her smugly. "Crying, little Miriel? Over your Manshima, maybe?" 

Miriel's eyes snapped open. "What are you talking about?" 

Carca's smug smile switched to a cold glare. "Don't pretend you're stupider than you already are," she snarled. "You think no one notices how much time you spend at the practice grounds? You were so busy looking at him that you never even noticed me, did you? Well let me tell you something," she hissed. "Arathorn Eldaren is _mine!" With that, she stalked away, leaving Miriel to stare after her in astonishment. _

Days passed into weeks, and weeks into months. It was fully 2 months after Miriel's encounter with Carca, and the woman hadn't given her a moment of peace since. She did everything in her power to make Miriel's life the Pit of Doom. But the worst of it was Arathorn. 

Ever since Carca had staked her claim on him, she began making herself more visible at the practice grounds. She began to draw Arathorn into conversation, speaking intelligently on any subject that was brought up and flattering him every other sentence. No matter how hard Miriel tried, though, she still couldn't bring herself to talk to him. Which meant that her competition with Carca in other areas became even fiercer. 

One afternoon in the practice grounds, the Manshima were working with quarterstaffs. Arathorn had just finished, and was setting his on the rack, when up strode a Siswai - the same that had challenged him before. This time, though, he didn't back down. 

"You're pretty good with that quarterstaff, Manshima," he remarked arrogantly. "But not as good as me I'll wager." 

Arathorn stared calmly back at him. "Is that a challenge, Siswai?" 

The boy glared. "Yes." 

Arathorn looked about to refuse, when the Master of Arms stepped up. "So you think you can beat him, eh? Let him try, Arathorn. I doubt he'll do any harm, and the worst you'll get is a crack on the head." 

The boy snatched up a quarterstaff and took position. Arathorn smoothly followed. Then they began. 

Miriel had been holding her breath from the first. Now, she watched intently, leaning forward, her stomach churning. The boy was good - too good. She watched as they pressed each other, each seeking the 

advantage. On and on it went, until the boy struck out unexpectedly at Arathorn. Caught off gaurd, he hesitated for an instant - and a loud crack rang out as the boy's quarterstaff slammed into the side of his head. To Miriel's horror, the boy didn't stop. Raising the staff again, he swung it at Arathorn's knees. He collapsed to the ground. Unable to restrain herself any longer, she ran out and knelt beside him. But even though she had better strength in Healing than most, she was not allowed to do so without a full sister to guide her. So she knelt beside him, helpless. Behind her she heard a yell - and turned just in time to see the Master of Warders block yet another blow from the boy's staff. He gestured to two Manshima, who quickly stepped up and grabbed the boys arms, escorting him away. "He'll be out of the Tower in a few days," he remarked to Miriel."I don't think we'll have any more trouble from him." Then, "Arathorn took some pretty hard hits. I'll go fetch a Yellow sister." 

Suddenly Aylin Sedai, a Yellow sister appeared. She touched his forehead briefly, then gestured to Miriel. "Heal him." 

Stunned, it took Miriel a moment to respond. Why had - of course. She was near raising. Aylin must feel it was time for her to attempt Healing on her own. 

Pressing her hand to his forehead, she closed her eyes and embraced Saidar. Channeling, she wove wind, water and spirit just as she'd been taught. She was rewarded by a groan and flickering eyelids. Anxiously, she watched him. Slowly, he sat up. Holding his arm, she helped him rise. Aylin Sdai took charge. 

"He needs rest now. Accepted, you will help him to his quarters and see that he rests properly. He is to do nothing for the rest of the day." Aylin strode off, muttering about how mischievous men in general were and that no doubt her own Warder was off getting himself in trouble. Miriel smiled. Aylin's Warder was ancient, and niether one ever left the Tower. 

She turned to Arathorn. "Come with me. Walk slowly, now." Outwardly, he retained the grace of movement that only a Warder could achieve. But Miriel could see the strain in his eyes. As soon as they entered his room and the door closed, he swayed and would have fallen, if Miriel hadn't caught him. Gently she guided him to his bed. He didn't lay down though. Firmly, she grabbed his shoulders, intending to push him onto his back if necessary. Softly, he took her hands and set them aside. "It seems I owe you a debt of gratitude, Accepted Miriel." 

Miriel folded her arms. "Then you can repay me by lying down and resting, as you're supposed to." She was amazed at her own tone. Arathorn smiled. 

"As you wish, Accepted." 

As he lay down, Miriel drew up a chair. She was prepared to wait until either he fell asleep, or she did. He showed no signs of sleeping though. He lay there with his arms crossed behind his head, quietly observing her. 

"Are you promised, Accepted Miriel?" 

Miriel nearly fell off her chair. "No, why do you ask?" 

"I have noticed you at the practice grounds almost every day. I thought you must be keeping an eye on your future Warder." His eyes crinkled in amusment. 

Glaring daggers, she responded, "No, but I'm surprised you noticed me, seeing how much time you spend talking with that other Accepted - Carca, is it? I'm surprised she hasn't tried to bond you." 

His face hardened. "I am grateful to you, Accepted, but do not push my patience. I will bond the sister of my choosing." His smooth dark hair did nothing to ease the lines on his face. Miriel winced. 

Immediatly his anger faded. "Forgive me, Miriel," he softly. "I could never hurt you, of all people." 

His words alone would have caused her to fall to her knees, but the look in his dark grey eyes spoke more than words ever could. She sat still as stone. Time itself seemed to slow. She had no idea how long she sat there, but when she finally came to herself with a start, he was asleep. Smoothing his hair, she gazed at him a moment longer before slipping out the door and back to her own room. 

From then on, Carca might as well not have existed. Oh, she still came to the training grounds, but it was Miriel who now spoke to Arathorn, not Carca. Every evening, they would walk through the gardens, in speech or in silence, simply enjoying each other's company. Until the day of Miriels raising. 

Miriel felt as if she were dreaming. Before the Hall, she held the oath rod and recited the three oaths. It was as if someone else were speaking the words. Dazedly, she approached the Blue sitters and requested to be taken in by thier Ajah, and later on felt the shawl being placed on her shoulders. As soon as she entered her 

new rooms, she did a very undignified whirl, embracing the Source. Arathorn had been raised to Gaidin yesterday, and they would now be allowed to bond. Happily she went to seek him out. 

On her way out to the gardens, she passed a group of Accepted. She slowed, listening to their talk. 

"-won't be seeing Carca today, I guess." 

Miriel paused. 

"Why not?" asked a little brown haired Accepted. 

"Haven't you heard? She was raised yesterday. She's gone to bond her Warder." 

Miriel felt a chill run up her spine. 

A green eyed Accepted asked, "Who's her Warder?" 

"Arathorn Eldaren." 

MIriels heart stopped. "Where is Carca?" Miriel snapped. At her sharp tone, the Accepted all huddled together. "In the grove, Miriel Sedai." 

Gathering up her skirts, Miriel turned and ran. Down the hall, out the doors, and into the gardens. Swiftly she turned her flight in the direction of the grove, her panic rising by the minute. Not just panic - anger. At Carca, at Arathorn, but most of all, at herself. Like a burning brand, her mind flared with a single question: Why? Her thoughts were brought to an abrupt halt as she skidded to a halt. She was in the grove. Arathorn was on his knees, firmly tied with flows of air. Carca stood over him, insane delight painted on her features as she reached out for his forehead. Embracing _saidar, Miriel struck out with air. Carca crumpled at the blow. The flows released, Arathorn stood. In three quick strides he stood before her. Kneeling, his gaze boring into her, he said flatly, "Bond me." Miriel opened her mouth to object, but his look stopped her. Placing her hand on his forehead, she wove the necessary flows. Briefly, she felt heat flash through her. Then it was done. Standing, he took her hands. "I am yours to command, Miriel Sedai. As I have always been." _

Miriel could not suppress her smile. "Ready two horses, my Gaidin. We ride today." As he turned to go, Miriel heard a groan. Carca was just finding her feet. Walking over, Miriel helped her to rise. 

Carca's gaze was blank. "So you have bonded him." 

Miriel nodded. "Yes." 

Carca stood there a moment longer before turning swiftly on her heel and exiting the grove. Miriel took another route back to the Tower. She needed to pack. 

Together they rode out of Tar Valon. For the first time in ten years, Miriel looked upon the outside world. It was as wonderful as she remembered. Slowing her horse Imbrium to a walk, Miriel turned to look at Arathorn. Calmly he remarked, "That is the twelfth time you have done that since we left the gates. I am not going to run away or disappear." 

Miriel suppressed a smile. "Of course. I just wanted to ask you if you happened to have a map on you." Miriel already had a map, but she wanted to see how prepared her Warder was. And cover up her nervousness. 

Arathorn raised an eyebrow. "I need no map. We are roughly three and a half miles from Tar Valon, heading north east towards Fal Moran. I assume we are headed towards Shienar?" 

"No, we are not. We will head north west, towards Saldaea. Ahh...Saldaea _is north west, isn't it?" _

Through the bond, Miriel thought she detected amusement. "Yes, Saldaea is north west. Do you want to turn now, or wait until we reach Shienar?" His face was perfectly straight, yet now she was certain she felt amusement. Scowling, she whirled Imbrium around and heeled her into a gallop. 

Two weeks later found them in a small encampment about a day's ride from Saldaea. Miriel lay on her back, gazing up at the stars which shone down so brightly. She had been so lost in her studies in the Tower, she had forgotten what it was like just to lay outside all night, with nothing but the breeze for company. Well, there was Arathorn of course, but he was unusually quiet tonight. Miriel let him be, she knew he was not upset, simply tired. She had insisted that they press on for two days straight in order to reach Saldaea in time for Beltine. What Arathorn felt was nothing compared to how tired she was; she doubted she could even get up to walk the pallet Arathorn had prepared for her. A few moments later, she concluded that she most definitly could not get up until she had a few more moments rest. Just a little...more rest..... 

Miriel jerked awake as she felt herself being lifted, momentarily panicked, until she realized it was Arathorn. Then she scolded. 

"I can walk by myself, you are tired enough as it is. Put me down." Through the bond, she realized how weak an excuse that was. He was fresh and fit, compared to her. 

"You did not show any signs of getting up by yourself, so I merely decided to assist you." 

She glared as fiercely as she could under the circumstances. She nearly tried Compulsion, but the look in his eyes stopped her. No matter he was sworn to protect her, he would not bend to anyone's will easily, even hers. And she knew she didn't have a chance of standing up to him physically. Thus, she relented to the indignity of being carried to her bed. 

As he ever so gently laid her down, she murmered, "I almost wish you would carry me to bed more often." He stiffened slightly at that, and Miriel immediatly regretted it."I did not mean that," she said. "I only- 

she paused, frantically searching for an answer. She did not need one. Bending down, he genty kissed her. When she opened her eyes, she felt through thier bond what she had waited so long for-love. And at long last, she knew that no matter what happened, they would have each other. They always would. 

The End


End file.
